


Crash Into Me

by youmaybethechancellor



Category: La Reina del Sur (TV), Queen of the South, Queen of the South (TV), Queen of the South (USA Network), Queen of the South - USA
Genre: A lot of sleeping?? just let them rest, ANYWAY this will probably be like 2x01 through 2x05, Angst, Car Accident, Cuddling, Dorks in Love, F/M, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, I keep making it longer and possibly... worse, Platonic Cuddling, Sharing Clothes, Stranded, Thunderstorms, honestly where am I going with this anymore, set in season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:31:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youmaybethechancellor/pseuds/youmaybethechancellor
Summary: Teresa may have crashed the Escalade and stranded them in a swamp during a thunderstorm...





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> *We got knocked down a hill by a car accident and we’re not in too good shape but rescue’s coming in a day…or 3 AU -[dailyau](http://dailyau.tumblr.com/post/169508028831/we-got-knocked-down-a-hill-by-a-car-accident-and)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after 2x01 but before 2x02, so she doesn't know Guero is alive yet

Teresa wasn’t a bad driver. She wasn’t. But on this particular evening in this particular location with these particular conditions... perhaps she wasn’t at her best.

They were driving down to Galveston when it happened. They were three hours from the warehouse, somewhere in the Huntsville State Park, when a deer had darted out in front of their car. 

Teresa, never one to kill when unnecessary, swerved to avoid it, but the heavy rain caused the car to spin out of control and smack into the guardrail, their descent into the swamp below only ended when they hit a pine tree. 

Really not her best work.

Now she was drenched and face to face with a hissing fucking crocodile. For once, she wasn’t sure what to do. She couldn’t exactly talk her way out of this. 

Teresa tried to get up slowly, but a sharp pain in her ankle brought her back down again, splashing mud and water. 

The crocodile’s hissing grew louder and it shifted forward. 

Three gunshots rang out in quick succession as James killed it. 

“Oh my fucking god,” she sputtered. “I-I almost got eaten by a fucking crocodile.” Teresa’s breathing quickened as she realized what could have become of her. She had survived being kidnapped and the wrath of the Vargas family, but had almost died from a fucking overgrown _reptile._

“It’s not a crocodile. It’s an alligator.” He came over to inspect it, nudging it with his boot. 

“Aren’t they the same thing?” Teresa hissed as she tried to stand again. She had fallen out of the Escalade and into the water when she tried to put weight onto her swollen ankle. It was twisted for sure, maybe broken. She didn’t remember hearing it snap, but she had hit her head during the crash. 

The trees provided some cover, but the rain was still coming down hard and they were already soaked. 

He stooped to help her up. “No, crocs have pointed snouts. And if it had been one, you’d be dead already. They’re nasty little fuckers.”

She tried to focus on slowing her breathing. 

“I’ve never seen either in Culiacan.” She was annoyed. Nearly getting eaten does that to a person. 

“Haven’t you ever been to the zoo?” He pulled her arm around his neck and slipped his around her waist to steady her. 

“No.” _Why would she have?_ “Have you?”

“Yeah. Few years back, Camila took Isabela to the zoo in Culiacan. Needed backup.”

“Backup for a zoo trip?” It seemed ridiculous. Did they think that someone was hiding in the pens, waiting to jump out at them? 

“You never know what’s out there.” 

She suppressed a shudder. Teresa didn’t want to think what else might be out there in the dark swamp. 

James helped her back into the driver’s seat, which provided a little cover from the rain. The water was above his ankles, and his boots were proving to be less waterproof than he’d prefer. Hers were probably ruined. 

He checked his phone, blinking water out of his eyes and wiping off the screen. “I don’t have a signal out here.”

“We should try to get back up to the road. Wave down a park ranger or something.”

“We can’t do that while we’re holding a quarter of a million in cash.” 

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Teresa was cold and wet and not at all interested in arguing. 

“Not crashing the car would have been a good idea.” Though light, his words were laced with bitterness. 

“There was a deer.” 

He raised his brows. _So?_ “The car would have been just fine.”

“It would have died!”

He swore. “And we would be in Galveston by now! I shouldn’t have let you drive.”

“You needed to sleep,” her voice softened. “You’ve been running on fumes all week.”

He sniffed. “I’m fine.”

He wasn’t. 

She shook her head but let it drop. “We should get back to the road.”

“What’s the point? It’s the off-season. Everything’s boarded up.” His fingers itched for a cigarette, but the pack in his back pocket would be too wet by now to enjoy. 

“Maybe we can find a payphone?” It was a long shot. She didn’t think that they even had any change. 

“You can barely walk. Even if you make it up to the road, you won’t get very much farther than that.” He shifted, his boots squelching in the mud. 

“Get help and come back for me.” 

He pressed his lips together. “I’m not leaving you, Teresa.” 

_They were in this together._

He sounded tired, but it was firm enough that she knew she couldn’t convince him otherwise, yet she tried anway. “I’ll be fine.” 

“You might have a concussion. You should be in a hospital, and I definitely can’t leave you here alone.” 

“So we’re both stuck here,” she said bitterly. 

He shrugged. “Looks like.”

“To be eaten by alligators when we run out of bullets.”

“Don’t worry.” The side of his mouth lifted up in a ghost of a smile. “You’re more likely to be killed by a dog than one of those.” 

She was suddenly aware that he was still standing in the rain. And smiling at her. Kind of. His black shirt was stuck to his chest and his hair was flattened and dripping. He pushed a bit of his hair off his forehead so that he could stop blinking water out of his brown eyes, revealing a cut on his forehead that was still bleeding. 

She swallowed and rolled her eyes. “We’re not stuck in a swamp full of dogs.”

 

The backseat of the Escalade wasn’t crushed, just the hood and part of the side, but it was higher up on the bank than Teresa would have liked to have crawled. It didn’t help that the bank was muddy and that there was water running down it, creating streams that she couldn’t see very well in the dark. 

James helped her get up the bank and into the trunk, where there was enough space for both of them. 

They had been planning to stay the night in Galveston, so they each had a change of clothes. Hopefully the hotel would call about their missed check-in and someone would come looking for them. 

James pulled off his shirt to reveal a set of bruised ribs, with only an unsteady exhale to betray the pain he was in. He sniffed as he prodded at the gash on his forehead, his fingertips coming away bloody. James pressed his shirt against it to stop the bleeding with one hand as he tried to unlace his boots with the other. 

Teresa was trying to take off her boots, but she was shivering pretty badly, so it was slow going. She hadn’t been standing in the rain as long as James had, but the fall into the swamp hadn’t done her any favors. 

“Here,” he pushed her hands away gently, unlacing her left boot all the way so that he could slip it off with ease. 

He prodded at her ankle gently. “It’s just sprained.”

She nodded. 

James pulled her bag out of the back seat and handed it to her, turning around in the small space to give her some privacy.

After a minute of struggling, he offered, “Need some help?”

“I’ve got it.” She waved him off. 

 

She released a big sigh. “James?”

She had changed her shirt and had the right side of her jeans off, but was struggling with getting her skinny jeans over her swollen ankle. Teresa had placed her duffle bag across her lap to provide some cover. 

James shifted across the trunk so that he was closer to her ankle. “Yeah, this isn’t going to work.” 

He removed his pocket knife and flicked open the blade. “You mind?” 

Teresa shook her head no. “Just get it off.” 

Teresa clenched her jaw as he pulled at the fabric, sliding his blade underneath it and ripping it open. He slid the knife farther up so that none of it would touch her ankle as he slid it off, effectively ruining the jeans. 

She removed a pair of looser pajama pants and leaned forward to put them on, finding a bit of difficulty as she leaned over the duffle bag. 

“I got it,” he said, taking them from her. He helped Teresa get her legs through the pants and pulled them up to just over her knees. He stopped there, sitting back, not wanting to touch her where he wasn’t welcome to. 

Teresa lifted her hips up to pull them up, wincing as she accidentally put pressure on her ankle. 

James wrapped a hand around her calf so she could put her weight onto him, and she succeeded in pulling them up that way. 

“Thank you.” 

He nodded. “We should probably splint that ankle.” 

“You should change first. We can’t risk you getting hypothermia out here.” 

He blew air and rolled his eyes, but did as he was told.

 

When he was finished splinting her ankle, he looked up at her. “Teresa, you shouldn’t fall asleep.” 

“I’m tired. And cold.” She leaned her head against the back of the seat, closing her eyes. 

The storm had calmed a little, just enough that the sound of the rain against the car was soothing instead of worrying. 

James pushed at her to get her attention. “You escaped Epifanio’s men and survived this long with Camila, but you’re going to let some deer kill you?”

“I don’t have a concussion.” 

“Your pupils are blown and you can’t walk in a straight line,” he pointed out. 

“My ankle’s sprained.” And you’re kind of pretty when you aren’t being a dick. 

His lips twitched. “I’d offer you some pain meds but the closest thing we have is some product.” 

She scoffed lightly. “I don’t think that’d help much.” 

“It’d help you wake up.” 

“I don’t do coke anymore. You?” She opened her eyes. 

“For business, not pleasure.”

A smirk passed over her face. “When was the last time you did _anything_ for pleasure?”

“I took a nap. Look where that got us.” 

“That doesn’t count.” 

“I don’t know…” The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. “I stole a couple candy bars from a gas station. Well, not really.”

“What?”

“When you disappeared with the maid... The gas station across from the church had security cameras, and I had to bribe the cashier to look at them.” 

Her tone turned serious. “Why’d you do it?” 

A shrug. “Nothing better to do.”

“No, why did you lie to Camila?”

She could tell that he knew what she had meant. 

“The maid was already gone…” He shook his head. “I didn’t think she’d be a problem. She knows what would happen to her if she ever tried to come back to the States or snitched.” 

“You betrayed Camila’s trust,” she pointed out. James was unfailingly loyal to Camila, but he had lied for her. It didn’t make sense. 

He shifted uncomfortably. “She would have made me hurt you.”

She searched his eyes. “Thank you, James,” she said sincerely. 

“You’re dangerous for me, you know that? Making me risk my relationship with Camila and now stranding me in some alligator-infested swamp in the middle of a thunderstorm.”

Thunder rolled loudly as though to emphasize his words.

She smiled a real smile. “Maybe you shouldn’t have let me drive.”

“Should’ve known you’d be the death of me,” he quipped lightly.

Her smile faded. “I don’t want you dead any more than you want me to die.”

“I know, Teresa.”

_She was looking at him so softly…_

He cleared his throat ever so slightly. “You can go to sleep if you want to. I’ll wake you up in an hour or two to check on you.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to sleep.”

“It’s supposed to be okay as long as you have someone to watch over you. Try not to die though.”

 _I’ll watch over you._ Four words of an unspoken promise from a guy whose job was to make sure she didn’t run away from a cartel that was holding her captive shouldn’t be so comforting, but honestly? It was the safest she had felt in weeks. 

She fell asleep to the sound of the storm outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading !! let me know what you think !!


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teresa wakes up cold. James accommodates her.

James had moved back across the trunk to fetch something out of his duffle. He leaned against the back of the seat next to Teresa and paused to watch her as she slept. The stress had disappeared from her face and she looked younger, like the world hadn’t hardened her yet. 

He hated to wake her. 

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for James to wake Teresa. He’d done it more often than not since she came to the warehouse. But somehow, this felt different. More intimate.  
Being trapped in a trunk together gave off that impression. 

He ran a hand along her arm. “Teresa.”

She blinked awake slowly, inhaling a deep breath. Teresa didn’t seem startled like all those other times he had woken her, or pissed, for that matter. The right side of her head was red from being pressed up against the wall of the car. 

“How are you feeling?”

“‘M still alive,” she said sleepily. 

“Stay that way, huh? I don’t need to have to explain your death on top of why her hundred thousand dollar car has been totaled.” 

“She’ll get over it.” Camila ran a multi-million dollar drug empire. She’d replace the car easily. 

“She’s gonna be pissed,” James corrected.

“We’ll figure it out,” she dismissed. “I’m cold.”

He was wearing his leather jacket, but Teresa had nothing but her thin shirt to protect her from the dropping temperatures. 

“Do you want my jacket?”

“You’ll be cold.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“It’s freezing in here.”

“Been through worse.”

“So have I…” she reminded, “doesn’t mean you should have to. Get our bags.” 

A look of confusion passed over his face, but he did as he was told, as good little soldiers do. 

She moved around a few things in the bags so they would serve better as cushions and pressed them against the wall. Teresa did her best to shift sideways, but it was slow going. She inclined her head, “Come here.” 

“Uh…” he blinked. “Where?”

“Just get over here.”

James pushed himself onto his knees obediently and got out of her way, but didn’t move any further. 

“James… just come here.” She had just left enough room behind her for him to slot himself between her and the wall.

He swallowed thickly before doing as she asked, though with a touch of hesitation.  
The trunk was wider than it was long, so they both fit more comfortably this way. 

Teresa’s back was pressed against his chest and she was sitting in between his legs. If they were in nearly any other context he would have been… Pleased. But Teresa’s damp hair smelled like rainwater and faintly of the swamp outside, and they were both tired and hurt and not at all in the mood for… whatever. 

He leaned their bodies forward to fish out the white sweater that he had brought, offering it to Teresa. 

She slipped it on and leaned back against him gently. His ribs were bruised, but he didn’t mind so much. 

His right leg was pressed up against hers, and he was careful to make sure that only his left thigh was touching hers, not wanting to jostle her ankle. 

He didn’t know what to do with his hands. Teresa had hers resting on her stomach, her elbows just touching his waist. 

He found himself wanting to play with her hair. 

That was a bad idea.

A very bad idea. 

A no good, very bad, rotten idea. 

He should never, ever even think about that again, much less do--

He ran a soft hand through her hair. 

A corner of her mouth tilted up fondly as she leaned into his touch. “My mom used to do that.” 

“Go to sleep, Teresa.” He said her name the way it was meant to be said. Ter-es-ah.

Safe, and warm, she nodded off to sleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading !! let me know what you think !!


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning...

Teresa woke up again -- this time, not by James -- after sunrise to find two strong arms banded around her waist. It should have made her uncomfortable, but honestly, she didn’t care that much right now. 

“James.” She ran a hand along his forearm before attempting to free herself. “James, we should go.”

He pulled her closer, burying his nose in her neck. “No.” 

Teresa blinked away her shock. She had been expecting him to be a grumpy morning person, not _cuddly._

This was not a good time to notice that despite how tired he was, a certain part of him was very much excited. 

James seemed to realize what he was doing a few seconds later. He let go of her and removed his face from her throat, scooting back from her as much as he could. 

He cleared his throat, but his voice was still sleepy when he said, “How’s your head?”

She felt herself blush, though she knew he didn’t mean it like _that._ She really needed to get it together. “Fine.”

“Ankle?”

“I’ll manage.”

He hummed in response. 

“How are your ribs?” She probably should have thought about that before she spent the night leaning up against them. Teresa felt annoyed with herself for forgetting that he had been hurt too. 

“It’s nothing.”

 

They rearranged the bags so that the cash was hidden amongst their clothes. It wouldn’t do to have a whole bag full of money with them if they were stopped by law enforcement. 

James crossed them over his back and helped Teresa out of the trunk. 

Her face twitched as she put a bit too much pressure on her left foot. 

“Stop putting weight on your ankle,” he chastised. 

She was leaning heavily on the side of the truck. The bank was muddy and she definitely wasn’t going to make it up without getting dirty. 

“This isn’t going to work like this.” He removed the bags from his back and laid them back in the trunk before before taking her wrist in his hand. 

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t move,” he said as he squatted,wrapping his other arm around her thigh, tugging lightly on her wrist so that she bent forward was draped across his shoulders. 

“What the _fuck.”_

He stood and transferred her wrist to the hand that was around her thigh, freeing his arm up. “Put your hand flat on the small of my back and push.” 

Teresa did not appreciate being told what to do, especially after being picked up like this, but she swallowed her protests and did as he asked, if only because it meant that she didn’t have to spend the rest of the walk covered in dirt. 

James carried her up the muddy bank with only a minor amount of slipping and set her down gently on the pavement. “Wait here,” he said as he headed back for the bags. 

Not that she had any choice. 

The sun was nowhere to be seen, and it looked like it was going to rain again. The clouds were thick and gray and the air still held that after-rain smell. There was a slight chill, but she didn’t feel it beneath James’ sweater. It was nice; the kind of morning where she’d make a cup of tea and curl up under a blanket. 

James returned a short time later with their duffles slung over his back. 

She attempted to stand on her own, but it wasn’t working out so well. 

James stood above her, watching with an amused expression. “I thought I told you to stay put.” 

“I don’t take orders from you.” Well, she kind of did, but she’d never admit that.  
James rolled his eyes. “Hold out your arms like this.” He demonstrated crossing his arms and holding tightly to his biceps. 

Teresa copied the motion as he walked behind her. 

She felt James squat behind her and he slipped his arms under her shoulders and up into the space that she had created, holding on tightly to her arms. He stood and she went up with him, finally getting onto her feet. 

Maybe he held her a second longer than he really needed to, but she didn’t complain. 

“So which direction are we going in? Left or right?” 

Teresa tried to remember if there were any buildings close to where they were, but she wasn’t sure. “I don’t know. Right?” 

“You’re not usually so unobservant,” he commented as he slipped an arm around her waist and began to walk. 

 

Teresa knew that the bags weren’t heavy, but she still felt guilty for making James carry them and her. She had offered to carry one, but of course he said no. 

 

They had made it about two miles up the road when they saw a doe and her two fawns crossing the road. Teresa stopped in her tracks, hoping not to scare them off, which made James stumble a little. 

_“Cabróna,”_ he muttered in the direction of the animals. 

Teresa gave him a withering look as she whispered, “Shut up. They’re pretty.”

“Yeah, if you like Lyme Disease.” He kept his voice low.

“What do you have against deer?” 

“Well--”

She cut him off, “Besides what happened last night.”

He shrugged. “I grew up in Texas. Deer are driving hazards and food, not majestical creatures.”

Teresa watched the deer until they disappeared on the other side of the road. She cast a glance at him. “I couldn’t kill it.” 

“I know,” said, resigned. Somehow she knew she was forgiven.

He left it at that as they resumed their walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading !! let me know what you think !!


	4. Part Four

They found a payphone further down the road, next to a locked bathroom and a dumpster that was clearly labeled with instructions to be kept closed at all times, on account of the wildlife.

James had luckily found some change in the Escalade -- likely left over from buying a pack of cigarettes or a couple of candy bars; the man probably spent more time in gas stations than the average person. He helped Teresa sit against the painted white brick wall before making the call. 

“Hey, it’s me. We ran into a bit of a problem and won’t make it to the exchange today.”  
“No, it’s nothing like that. We got into an accident and couldn’t find a signal. Teresa twisted her ankle, but we’re good.” He cast a glance over at Teresa, as though to check that she was, in fact, still good.  
James nodded though Camila couldn’t see him. “Okay.”

“Is she sending someone?”

“Yeah, but it’ll be a while.” He sat down on her right, pulling out his lighter and a cigarette. 

He took a drag, immediately making a face and releasing a breath. He cleared his throat and went to put it out on the concrete between them, but she took it from his fingers before he could. 

“Trust me,” he warned. “You don’t want any of that.”

Teresa put it between her lips anyway. A distraction’s a distraction. 

She coughed as the bitter smoke entered her body. It was _foul._

James hid a smirk. _Told you so._

”That’s _awful,_ ” she complained.

He blew air out through his nose, amused, as his lips curled upwards. 

 

The wind picked up, sending chills through the two of them. 

After a moment of hesitation, James closed the few inches between them so that their arms and thighs were touching. 

It wasn’t weird. Well, it _shouldn’t_ be weird. They had just spent the night pressed together in a trunk. He’d taken her pants off. 

Somehow this felt more intimate.

She was looking at him, and James was suddenly very interested at picking at a spot of mud on his knee. 

Teresa shifted so that that they were pressed together more fully. _For warmth,_ she told herself. 

She was still wearing his sweater. It was too big on her, slipping over her wrists. They hadn’t bothered to change their clothes that morning. Teresa wasn’t really sure what would have happened if they had. _Nothing?_

“What would you do? If you were free of all of this?” she waved her hand.

He considered her question. “I’d get a dog.” 

She laughed, surprised. “A dog? Really?”

He looked at her. “Yeah, a dog. We had a German Shepherd when we were kids. Her name was Bella.”

“We?” 

He hesitated. “My sister named her.” 

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

He looked uncomfortable. “She died when we were kids. I don’t- talk about it.”

Teresa pressed against him more fully, lending him strength. 

When he didn’t continue, she said, “My parents were killed in front of me. Slaughtered by the cartels.”

He looked at her, opening his mouth to say something, but didn’t. James swallowed thickly. He knew there wasn’t anything he could say that would make her feel better, and “I’m sorry” had never cut it for him, so he just leaned into her touch.

Teresa slipped her hands back so that they were hidden in the sleeves of James’ sweater. It was still cold, and she was sure that the clouds had darkened since they sat down. 

A squirrel darted out along a bare branch. It stopped and chittered to itself, rubbing at its face, before continuing on to wherever it was going.

James stifled a yawn, which didn’t go unnoticed by Teresa. 

“You didn’t get much sleep last night.” 

“I slept a little.” 

“You should try to sleep a little more. We don’t know if we’ll have time when we get to Galveston.” 

“You sure? The last time I woke up from a nap, you were face to face with an alligator.” 

Teresa rolled her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Okay.” He settled into a more comfortable position, a bit further away from her. “Wake me if anything happens.”

It didn’t take long for James to fall asleep. She wished she could fall asleep like he did, easily and anywhere at all. 

  


She searched the bare trees for more squirrels, but found none. There were deeper patches of mud from the rain scattered about. She fiddled with her clothing and inspected her nails. 

Before everything happened, she and Brenda used to go to this salon and get their nails done together. Brenda always painted hers this ridiculous green color, but Teresa usually got them in black. She missed things little things like that. Calling Brenda after Guero left on one of his trips had become habit, and now they were both gone and she had nothing -- no boyfriend, no best friend, no mansion, and no fucking manicure. 

Now her nails were dirty and uneven. She picked at them for a while, hoping to clean and straighten them out, but it wasn’t the same. 

James shifted beside her, and his neck looked so uncomfortable that she had to move it. Teresa shifted closer, though they were already so close, and guided his head to rest atop hers. She could’ve sworn he woke, but if he did, he just went back to sleep. 

She was bored, and even though she didn’t want to wake him up again just because she wanted to be entertained, she did consider it. She’d never been particularly restless, but Teresa wasn’t the same person she used to be. 

Maybe this new Teresa was the sort to wake up pretty boys that fell asleep next to her and kiss them to dull the pain of losing everything that she cared about. 

Losing Guero, though painful, had been a reminder. The people she loves the most die. It had always been too good to be true, and it was naive of her to think that that could have ever been her forever. Narcos had short life spans, and as one of Epifanio’s lieutenants, he had always been in danger of getting caught in the crossfire of some petty cartel feud. She knew that. He’d told her half a million times.

But Brenda? Brenda’s death had been _heartbreaking._ It was her fault that Brenda had been there in the first place. Teresa couldn’t protect her. She just ran. She ran and left her behind to be tortured to death.

Suddenly she thought that El Limpiador’s death had been too quick. She should have killed him slow like he killed her best friend. 

God, she had lost _so much._

She tried to blink the tears from her eyes and calm down before her shaking woke James, but it was too late. 

“Teresa?” 

She wiped at her face and turned her head so he couldn’t see her eyes. 

“Hey…” he took her right hand in his and squeezed.

Teresa took a deep, steadying breath before facing him. She didn’t bother to tell him that she was fine, because it was obvious that she wasn’t. 

The last time he’d seen her cry, he’d just held her silently until she was finished, stroking her back. It had been nice, and she’d been grateful to him for being there for her. 

His thumb stroked the back of her hand lightly, looking into her eyes from beneath his lashes. “You deserve to be happy.”

She wanted to start crying again. 

Teresa meant it when she said, “So do you.”

A corner of his mouth screwed up as he broke eye contact. “I d--”

“You’re a good person, James. You deserve to be happy,” she said firmly. Her tone asserted that there wasn’t any room for arguing. 

She leaned her head on his shoulder and wrapped her other hand around his. “Maybe we’ll get there someday. Together.” 

“Together,” he repeated, leaning his head atop hers and closing his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading !! let me know what you think !!


	5. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Teresa make it to Galveston.

They both tensed as the police car rolled up.

An officer stepped out, leaning on his car door. “You two look like hell.” 

The officer was tall, with broad shoulders and a 5 o’clock shadow on his sharp jaw. He was wearing dark sunglasses even though it was cloudy and had begun to sprinkle. 

It reminded her of James, who had a tendency to wear sunglasses inside. James wasn’t wearing them now, though. He hadn’t been since she got behind the wheel. 

That was different. 

She knew by now that James used his sunglasses as a sort of security blanket. They served as a barrier between himself and the outside world. James’ eyes were so expressive, it was like you could see into his soul if you really tried. It made sense that he would want to hide them; it wouldn’t be easy to lie with eyes like those. 

“Feel like it too,” James stood and discreetly placed himself between the man and Teresa, a polite smile on his face -- the kind he used when he was convincing civilians to trust him. 

“She need a doctor?” the man pointed at Teresa with his chin, noticing the splint on her ankle. 

James shifted ever so slightly to block Teresa from his view. 

“I’m fine,” she dismissed, though she probably did need to see a doctor, and her ankle was swollen and hurt. 

“Camila wanted me to drop you off at some hotel,” he said, and James’ shoulders lost their tension. “You sure you don’t want to stop at the clinic?” 

She shook her head. “Just get us to Galveston,” Teresa said as James helped her up, finding relief in the fact that he was sent from Camila and not just some good Samaritan. 

“Yes, ma’am,” the officer said as he slid back into his vehicle. 

 

It almost felt like that first day, when they were in the taxi after the airport run, the two of them so tired and ready to go back home. But Teresa was never going home, and it looked like James wouldn’t be either. 

 

She’d asked once, about if Camila knew about Kim, and James said that it wasn’t an issue anymore. It was over between them. 

And her house in Sinaloa… She couldn’t ever go back there. It would never be safe. It was such a shame that she had to leave everything behind, but her life there was over. It had always been too good to be true, and she should have known something like this would come and turn her world upside-down. 

 

An unspoken bond had formed between her and James on that car trip. She couldn’t really define what it was, even now, but she knew that James would protect her as much as he could. 

And after the incident at the parking garage, he knew that she’d protect him too. 

They’d proven themselves to each other, and it was so nice to have someone who not only saw her as an equal, but would do what she couldn’t without thinking less of her. 

 

Fat droplets splattered against the windshield, though Officer Miller didn’t remove his sunglasses, which were definitely unnecessary at this point. The radio crackled alive every couple minutes to inform them of an incident here or there, but the ride was largely quiet. 

A few miles down, James’ phone finally got a signal. He had missed a handful of calls from Camila and one from the hotel. 

James figured out their hotel situation and coordinated with the contact they were supposed to meet that afternoon, postponing the meeting.

“You lovebirds sure you don’t wanna stop somewhere?”

Teresa blinked at the assumption that they were _together._ Sure, they had been… cuddling when he arrived, but that didn’t _mean_ anything. They were just cold. 

James pointedly did not look at Teresa when he answered Miller, asking him to stop at a Walgreens, but didn’t bother to deny that they were together. 

 

James sent the officer inside to get an ankle brace for Teresa until they could go to a doctor they trusted in Dallas. He’d have gotten out himself, but it would have looked strangely for him to enter and exit the back of a cop car freely. 

 

James put it on for her despite her small protests, though it was a little difficult to do with the duffel bags between them as the officer drove. 

 

The officer parked behind the hotel. She gave him a tight smile as he opened her door for her, and took his offered hand for support, though she could have just as easily used the door. She didn’t like cops, but she’d rather he didn’t sell them out just because they were rude. 

James scooted out after her, taking the bags as he went. He shook the officer’s hand and promised him his payment within a few days. 

“You two have a good day, now,” Miller said as he got back into his car and drove off. 

 

The two tried to dust themselves off and look like they had not just been on an impromptu camping trip, but she wasn’t so sure that they succeeded. 

James walked at her pace, helping her along to the entrance of the hotel, noting potential exits and cameras as he went. He was very good with directions, and had half of Dallas stored up in his head. Teresa was sure that this was some sort of requirement for being a cop, or at least, that was what she was gathered from TV. Maybe it wasn’t. 

James checked them in while Teresa waited in a chair with the bags. She had to admit that though the brace was nice, she was tired of walking. Teresa reminded herself that she’d walked across a desert with an injured leg and no water, but her body was out of adrenaline at this point. The last few weeks had been so hard. She wanted a bubble bath and to sleep for 12 whole hours without being interrupted by nightmares or responsibilities.

They took the elevator to the third floor and found their room. James put the bags on the bed closest to the door, then worked on separating the clothes from the money they had mixed in as she watched him from her bed. 

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he said before exiting the room. 

She laid down and tried to find shapes in the ceiling. She was just about to fall asleep when he returned, bearing tourist-y clothing from the gift shop downstairs. He tossed her a t-shirt that said “Galveston Island” over it and some sweatpants before grabbing his toothbrush and entering the bathroom. 

He took a quick shower and changed into a dark blue henley. “I’ll see you later. Try not to get into trouble.” 

Wait, what?

Teresa kind of wanted to go with him, just so he wouldn’t be walking into this alone, but he said no. She’d have reminded him that they were supposed to do this job together, but she wanted to sleep, and anyway, James would be fine. He always was. And her ankle really _did_ hurt…

“It’s nothing,” he reassured her. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She nodded sleepily. He was right; she’d just get in the way this time. It didn’t stop her from worrying.

 

She’d been exhausted twenty minutes ago, but now that he was gone, she couldn’t bring herself to fall asleep. 

Teresa took a bath before ordering room service. She realized that James hadn’t eaten before he left, and hadn’t since they left Dallas. Neither of them had. She wished he’d taken a second to eat something, but she supposed that his mind was on other things. 

 

When they’d met, it had been easy to believe that he was selfish. He actually wanted people to believe that he didn’t care. Now she knew that couldn’t be further from the truth -- it was just another safety mechanism. James had a lot of walls up, but once you were inside them, you were his, and he would protect you and do it well, too. He was such a good person at heart. It just didn’t make sense that he got mixed up with someone as unfeeling and cold as Camila. 

And God, if he wasn’t loyal to a fault. She wondered if it was the soldier in him, or if it was something else. She’d known people back home that had joined the cartels willingly for a number of reasons: power, money, status, women. James wasn’t one to flaunt his wealth or even talk about money, and she didn’t really think that he would have a problem getting laid with arms like those. He wasn’t power-hungry, and was content to take a backseat and serve silently in Camila’s shadow. What could have possibly gotten him here? 

Teresa decided that whatever it was, he’d tell her when he was ready. 

She was grateful to him for being there for her. Pote was a good person, but she couldn’t talk to him the way she could with James. Their dynamics were just different. 

Teresa turned on the news and watched a segment about zoo animals being cute with each other, running her fingers through her damp hair. It felt so nice to be clean again. 

Her mind drifted to way that James had smiled at the officer. She had seen through it for what it was, -- a glamour, a front, just like his sunglasses and his clenched jaw were -- but couldn’t help but think that she’d like to see it again. James, for all his faults and crimes, deserved to be happy. 

Teresa drifted off to sleep thinking about the way his smile softened up his whole face, though she really, _really_ shouldn’t have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading !! let me know what you think !!


	6. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James returns, a little worse for wear.

Teresa woke to the sound of the door unlocking. She was instantly alert, palming the gun she’d placed under her pillow. She didn’t think anyone knew where they were, but after that whole deal with the Terris brothers, she didn’t think she’d ever feel very safe in hotels again. 

James stumbled through the door, bleeding and clutching at his ribs, before dropping onto his bed. 

She was on her feet and at his side instantly. “James!?”

He blinked up at her and tried to wave her off. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, you look _awful._ ” 

He _was fine_ , really. He hadn’t lost a lot of blood, but he was covered in glass shards and had likely hurt his side worse than it has been before. 

She helped him get propped up against the pillows, hands gripping his shoulders and feathering down his arms, assessing the damage. 

“I told you, I’m fine.”

 

Their contact had gotten greedy and put James through a window before making off with the cash. It didn’t make very much sense to her. A quarter of a million wasn’t enough incentive to poke the bear that was Camila Vargas and have her chasing after you, but she’d never assumed that everyone in this business was particularly intelligent. It was probably more about the insult than the actual reward in this case, anyway. And with James out of commission, the Texas cartel would be in further disarray. 

 

“Did you- break anything?”

“I think I heard a rib snap. I can't tell. They weren't in the best shape to begin with.”

“We should take care of these,” she said as she gestured at his bleeding chest. Tiny shards of glass had embedded themselves in his skin. It didn't look like he would need stitching up, but she wasn't too sure. She had small experiences in patching Guero up, but he’d tended to get physically beaten up or fired upon, not tossed through windows. 

James tried to take his shirt off, getting small pieces of glass all over the comforter, but it was too painful to do alone. 

Teresa cut his shirt off of him, revealing his bloodied, muscled torso. She should really not be staring, but she supposed that it could be passed off as judging the severity of his wounds. 

There was a larger piece of glass embedded in his side, though his hands and knees had gotten the worst of it when he’d tried to get up. The knees of his pants had torn and bloodied. 

Teresa slipped his arms out of his shirt and threw it in the direction of the trash can. They'd have to take it with them when they checked out and dispose of it in a less concerning area. It wouldn't do to leave it behind for some poor maid to see. 

A wave of guilt passed over her as she thought about Maria Sanchez. Teresa hoped that she’d be okay. She had considered sending her money, but had decided that it would be unwise. Camila had spies everywhere. 

James noticed her expression. “Hey,” he said, placing his hands on her upper arms. “This is not your fault.” 

“Yes it is! The car, your ribs, all of it -- If it wasn’t for me, none of this would’ve happened!” How could she be so _stupid_ and reckless? 

“No, Teresa. It's no one's fault, okay? We shouldn't have been driving in that weather, and I should have been more careful tonight. I'm really fine. I swear. They're just scratches.” 

“You still look like shit.” she said to the floor. 

“Thanks,” he huffed, then grimaced at the way it jostled his ribs. 

 

Teresa located some tweezers and sanitized them with alcohol. She went to work picking out shards from his skin and depositing the pieces into the trash can that she'd pulled up to the side of the bed. 

James was looking at her. "I can do it myself." 

"Not all of it." He wouldn’t be able to reach the bits in his back, nor would he have much control in picking them out of his dominant arm. She hadn’t taken the larger glass shard out yet, fearing that doing so would cause him to lose too much blood, but it was a pressing worry. 

"Most of it,” he amended. “You don't need to."

"I want to," she shrugged. 

He wasn’t _hers_. She shouldn’t just act like this, like he was someone that she would naturally take care of and care for. And yet… 

Teresa shifted her focus to his hands so that she could avoid his eyes. She cradled his palm in her lap gently, separating glass from skin. Her face twisted at the thought of just how painful it must really be. 

She had asked room service to bring them up a couple of bottles and a first aid kit, among other things so that it didn't seem too suspicious. Not that they would care. Camila paid a lot of money to keep her business private, and the hotel was good at being discreet. Still, they didn't like to take chances. 

James continued to stare at her. A week ago, she'd have squirmed underneath such a prolonged gaze, but things had shifted between them. 

He accepted the bottle she offered him and made a face at its taste. It _sucked._

He looked at its label. How had they ended up with this? Where was there even a _market_ for this? It was a sangria blend of pineapple, watermelon, passion fruit, key lime, and mango, and it was the worst thing he’d tasted in a long time. 

Teresa hid a smile at his reaction. She hadn’t really been listening when they’d listed off the wine specials over the phone. 

He sent her a look, offering her the bottle. “Try it.”

“I’m good.” She wasn’t interested in it after the face that he had made, but James insisted. 

She took a swig just to humor him. She made a noise of disgust. It was very sweet and very _bad._ There was no way that people actually liked this shit. They probably only offered it to tourists.

Teresa stifled a small cough. “How did you get up here without anyone seeing you?”

He shrugged. “This isn’t the sort of hotel where the staff _notice_ things. And there’s a side entrance.”

Teresa set the bottle on the nightstand and stood. “Can you lean forward? I should check out your back.” 

He did as she asked. It wasn’t too bad, and she quickly cleaned it up before easing him back against the pillows she’d placed against the headboard. 

Teresa was closer to his face than she had expected. His mouth slightly parted as his eyes flicked to her lips. 

Teresa leaned in and kissed him softly. _Just once_ , she told herself. Just to see what would happen. 

When she pulled back, James tried to follow her, hungry for more. 

She leaned her forehead against his. _That wasn’t a mistake, right?_

James opened his eyes to judge her reaction. Whatever he found there, it was enough that he placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in to kiss her again. 

She opened her mouth to him, pulling him closer with a hand knotted in his hair. James deepened their kisses, stroking her cheek with a thumb and moving his other hand to the back of her neck. She wanted him closer. 

Teresa pulled back and this time he let her go. She straddled him, careful not to jostle his ribs too much as she pulled him back up to her mouth. He didn't seem all that concerned with getting hurt though, with the way he was pulling her into him. 

James slid his hands up her thighs and under her shirt, hands pressing into her lower back, coaxing her closer. 

He made a small moan when she bit his lip, surprising her enough that she pulled away. James looked like a mess. His hair was mussed and he was out of breath, but his cheeks were faintly rosy and his eyes shone with desire. 

Teresa smiled to herself. She had done that to him with just a couple of kisses. Imagine what she could do w-- 

Her thought was interrupted by a call from Camila, the phone ringing loudly in his pocket beneath her.

Teresa rolled off of him so that he could answer it, laying down next to him to watch him. 

James answered the phone and filled Camila in, never taking his eyes off of Teresa at his side. 

 

 

He hung up, his Adam's apple bobbing up then down. If she didn't know better, she'd say that he was nervous. 

Teresa bit her lip. _What now?_

James sniffed lightly and looked away. He looked unsure now, and she supposed that was her fault. 

_Had the moment passed? Did he regret it?_

Teresa took his hand to have something to do, running her fingertips along his knuckles and the veins of his arms. James shivered as she touched a particularly sensitive place on his arm, breaking her focus. 

 

His brow creased. "Are you bleeding?" 

She inspected herself, finding blood on her chest and lifting her shirt up in confusion. Maybe she’d cut herself somehow? "It's not my blood." 

"Oh, shit, sorry." 

"Don't be." 

He hesitated before taking her hand, running his own bloodied fingers over hers. They lapsed into silence, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

 

“You have glass in your hair,” he noted. 

Despite her attempts to put all the pieces in the trash bin, there was still quite a significant amount on the bed. 

Teresa sat up and attempted to pick glass out of her hair. “You shouldn’t sleep here. You’ll get cut.” 

He smirked. “What’s one more?”

Teresa pushed at him and he got up obediently, helping her get to the edge of the bed. James seemed very amused by it all, and brushed a fragment of glass off of her ugly t-shirt. 

She met his eyes, and suddenly he sobered. He wanted more, and she wasn’t ready for it quite yet. She swallowed and took a step back, and the moment was over. 

James sniffed and located a pair of sweatpants before to going change in the bathroom. Teresa got back into her bed, keeping her back to him. 

When he emerged, she felt him hesitate, though she couldn’t see him. Teresa reached a hand behind her and flipped the sheets back for him before returning to her original position. 

James crawled into bed slowly, sleeping on his back on the edge of the bed. Soon, his breathing evened, and she let herself drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think !!


	7. Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teresa pulls away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh these dumb babies love each other so much but is Teresa ready for whatever /this/ is with James??   
> Not yet.

The next morning, Teresa took over the process of getting them home. While James slept, she called Pote and filled him in, asking him if he could drive down and get them, because neither of them were really in any shape to drive, and James hadn’t bothered to ask Camila to arrange for a car. Pote was concerned, but she assured them that they would be fine after a night in their own beds. 

  
She cleaned the room as best as she could with what was available, and packed their meager belongings. Neither of their bags had been particularly full when they’d left Dallas, but it was still a bit difficult to zip up the duffel that now held both of their things. 

There was nothing more to do, and her eyes drifted to her bed and to that man in it that she had been pointedly ignoring. 

So. She’d kissed James. And he’d kissed her back. That was… something to think about. Later.

Right now she was too wrapped up in what had happened between them since the crash. She wasn’t thinking clearly. _This?_ This could never work. Teresa shook her head to herself. James was _James_ \-- Camila’s right hand man and most loyal _soldado._ He was only here because Camila wanted someone to babysit her and spy on her. She shouldn’t _trust_ him, and she definitely shouldn’t be kissing him. Not if she wanted to survive this, any of this. And yet... She did trust him. 

_And had kissed him. Eagerly._

Maybe she had hit her head, after all. 

Teresa wasn’t sure how or when it happened, but James had become her friend, and she knew that she could count on him to keep her safe, just like he could with her. He’d told her that they were in this together, and she believed him. It was a lot to think about. 

She promised herself she wouldn’t do anything further until they weren’t both trapped in a hotel room together with various injuries. They both needed clear heads if this was going to continue, because if they made the wrong choice, it would be disastrous for both of them. Camila would see to that. She wouldn’t like to find that her two favorite toys were playing together without her. 

James stirred, and she quickly looked away, trying not to make it seem like she’d been watching him while he slept. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. 

James reached over to get his phone from the nightstand, but she knew that he hadn’t missed any calls. He moved so that his back was up against the headboard and took a breath. “Hi.” 

“Hi.”

He pressed his lips together. “You hungry?” 

She nodded and pretended to look for the menu, though she already knew where it was. Teresa was stalling. It was unlike her to be so nervous, but she thought it was warranted. 

.Teresa unearthed the menu from a drawer and held it out to him. 

“Do you know what you want?” 

“Bacon and eggs will be fine.” 

He looked over the menu before calling down for two orders of bacon and eggs. 

Teresa went into the bathroom to make coffee for him and tea for herself in the little machine. She brought him the whole bowl of sugar and creamer along with his coffee. Somewhere along the way, she’d picked up that he had a bit of a sweet tooth, and the way that he preferred his coffee was positively disgusting. 

She picked out a single packet of sugar for herself and poured into the cup she’d set on the dresser, covering it with a travel lid so that it could steep. 

“How long have you been awake?” he asked as he dumped multiple packets of sugar into his coffee cup.

“A while. Pote should be here soon.” She watched him open one, two, three tiny cups of creamer and stir his paper cup with a small black straw. 

A small smile. “He’s going to kick my ass.” 

Teresa looked at him, puzzled. “Why?” She hadn’t told him anything about--

He met her eyes. “Because you got hurt.” 

Oh. 

Right. 

“It was my fault,” she shook her head. “I was driving.” 

“It doesn’t matter. That’s not how we think when it comes to our _patronas._ It’s irrational, but that’s how it is.” 

She looked up at him. “You’ve never been irrational over Camila.” 

“I work for her, don’t I?” He looked up at the ceiling and leaned his head back against the headboard, releasing a sigh. _That’s irrational enough,_ he didn’t say

That was an interesting twist. The loyal knight had problems with his queen?

“I thought you were loyal to her.” 

“I don’t have to agree with everything she wants to be loyal to her. She’s my boss and I’ll do what she asks me to.” 

Teresa couldn’t say that she got it. Camila was a lot of things, but she didn’t think that she was worth dying over. Her need for respect and her prideful heart never did the people that worked for her any favors. Camila would just as soon drug Teresa up and force her into prostitution as she would praise her. You never knew with Camila, and that made her dangerous. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. That should be their food. She stood and went to the door, checking through the peephole first. She heard James cock his weapon behind her, and with that, she opened it. 

 

Teresa tipped the woman on the other side and brought the cart in herself, though had a bit of difficulty walking backwards with her sprain. 

She gave him his plate and brought hers to the table, retrieving her tea on the way. They ate in silence, largely because Teresa kept her eyes on her plate and did _not_ notice the looks he kept sending her every couple seconds, hoping that she would look at him. 

The food wasn’t as good as she expected. It kind of made her feel nauseated. Maybe Pote had been spoiling her with his home-cooked meals. 

_Or maybe you just feel guilty for pulling away from him when you know that’s what you want._

Nevertheless, she forced herself to clear her plate and was just finishing off her tea when Pote called, saying that he was about fifteen minutes out. She thanked him and told James, who got out of bed slowly and went looking for a shirt. 

 

Teresa took over the process of checking out downstairs. The bill was higher than it should have been, but Camila could afford it. 

Teresa sent James, who was sitting in a chair, a look and started to leave the lobby. _Let’s go._

“Hey,” he stopped her. “Are we --okay?” 

She felt her cheeks heat. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

He blinked in shock, his mouth opening to say something. He closed it and swallowed, taking a small step back and clenching his jaw. Teresa felt his walls go back up, and it almost made her sorry to have said anything.

“Right.” He sniffed. “We should go. Pote’s waiting.”

“James--” 

He turned to her and waited, but she didn’t have anything to say. His eyes were cold and his face was carefully blank, but she knew she had hurt him. 

_I’m sorry._

“Nevermind,” she finished lamely. 

 

In the car, the Queen appeared in the backseat next to her. 

“Don’t worry about James. He’s a big boy. He’ll get over it,” she said. 

Most of the time, Teresa took her words as law, as lifelines. Today, though, she wasn’t in any danger. The Queen shouldn’t be here. 

“What if I don’t want him to?” she asked. 

“You should.” And then she was gone. 

 

Teresa felt guilty the whole ride back to Dallas.


	8. Part Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to start messing with the timeline after this but uh,, it's for the benefit of my Jeresa heart so don't worry about it, it'll all come together in the end.  
> Writing this chapter was so hard because all I want to do is write the next one ugh,, sorry it took a bit longer

They’d been back in Dallas for two days. James wasn’t cold to her. Not exactly. He acted like the car accident -- and what came after -- had never happened.

Somehow that was worse.

Now that Teresa had seen his walls come down, it hurt to see them back up again. He was her _friend,_ one of the only people that she could talk to anymore, and she had fucked that up. Though he was hiding it, Teresa knew that it hurt both of them to have that distance between them again. She didn’t want things to go back to the way they were. She wanted to pick up where they left off before Camila called, but she didn’t know how to bring it up again, and she wasn’t quite sure that she could handle being rejected or pushed further away.

Teresa Mendoza was a lot of things, but a coward wasn’t usually one of them.

 

—  
Pote had noticed. He’d stopped her from leaving the kitchen that morning after breakfast to talk about it. 

“What happened with you and James?”  
“Nothing. We’re fine.”  
“Bullshit. That --”  
“... It’s more of what I did to him.”  
“I’m not following you, Teresita.”  
“I pushed him away. It isn’t his fault.”  
“If your little gabacho does anything…”  
“He won’t.”  
“I’ll kill him.” he finished anyway.  
“Pote,” she shook her head. _How had she earned this man’s loyalty?_ “I trust him.” And she did. With her life.

—

 

After she’d handed over their duffel bag for a load of laundry, she realized that one of the maids had left James' sweater in her closet. She considered giving it back to him, but decided that it couldn't hurt if she kept it for another night or two. It was so soft and warm and though it was big on her, it made her feel safe. 

And maybe she wanted a small reminder of that night. A promise that it wasn’t all in her head.

 

If James noticed that his sole article of white clothing was missing, he didn't say anything, but in the following days, she did notice that he purchased more sweaters, and even bought an AC/DC shirt to wear to bed.

 

Teresa didn't want to presume that his expanded wardrobe was for her benefit, but she did notice his stare when he caught her getting glasses of water at night or passing by his room while wearing his sweater, yet he never said a word. 

Pote rolled his eyes at her the first time he saw her wearing the sweater, but after she sent him a very pointed _look,_ he kept his mouth shut. She may have overheard him grumbling to himself as she left the kitchen, but that could have been over anything.

 

When she found James' dark blue henley folded amongst her pajamas, she told herself that it was a coincidence. It was ridiculous to think that he was sneaking into her room and leaving her his clothes. She should have just given it and the sweater back to him, but she didn't want to. It was hers now, and he wasn't getting it back unless he asked. 

_Maybe not even then_ , she thought as she slipped it on. 

 

When the AC/DC t-shirt wound up in her dresser the next day, she laughed to herself. This wasn't real, right? James was supposed to be some great strong guy who was unaffected by anything, but here he was, quietly sending over his clothes? Waging some sort of laundry warfare on her heart? 

He may have been respected and even feared in the cartel world, but she couldn’t help but think that he was a massive dork. 

 

James' room was across from hers, and he definitely noticed the first time that she wore his t-shirt. She made sure of it.

 

It was warm enough in the house that she didn’t mind wearing shorts. The black shirt was simple: just the AC/DC logo in red and outlined in yellow with the little lightning bolt in between. The shirt was long enough that it gave the illusion that she wasn’t wearing shorts at all. It was neither ugly nor nice, but that was fine. She didn’t plan to wear it for long. 

James didn’t always sleep well when they were home. She knew that he had nightmares, and often ran on caffeine rather than a good night’s sleep. He would be awake at this time of night. 

Teresa opened the door to her room just as James was returning to his, feigning a trip to the kitchen for water. She was _thirsty_ , after all. 

 

“That’s my shirt.” It was his first acknowledgement of the fact that she’d been wearing his clothes for the last three weeks. 

“You want it back?” 

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “It looks better on you.” 

“You sure?” she smirked. _Come on, James, play with me._

He seemed to catch on then. James swallowed and adjusted his stance, tipping his chin up fractionally. “You know what? Yeah. Give it back.” 

These last words sent a thrill through her. Teresa pulled the shirt off and extended it to him. Their fingers brushed as he took it, but she didn’t think that he noticed. James didn’t meet her eyes until she took a step back into her room. 

“Do you want the others?” A hint of a smile played on her lips. 

James, for all his confidence and lectures, had been rendered speechless. _She had done that to him._

He swallowed thickly and nodded, following after her as she retreated further into her room. 

James closed the door softly behind him, but didn’t take a step beyond that.

She looked pointedly at his hand still on the knob before flickering back up to his eyes. “You can leave if you want to.” 

He didn’t want to. 

James took two steps toward her, his grip on the shirt still in his hand tightening. 

“Take your shirt off.” The command rolled off her tongue of its own volition. 

The corners of his mouth quirked and he looked away for a second in amusement before pulling his shirt off. He tossed both of their shirts behind him, and they hit the door softly. His bruises had faded so much that she only saw them because she knew they were there. 

Teresa sauntered over to him, running a hand up over his stomach and chest before tangling it in his hair. She pressed her forehead to his, the movement forcing their chests together. Teresa’s nipples were already hard beneath her dark bralette. 

James brought his hands up to hold her there, thumbs stroking her hip bones lightly. 

Teresa’s other hand found his cheek as she tugged him down to kiss her. 

James was a good kisser. Like, really good. It made her wonder what else that pretty little mouth of his could do… 

She pulled away from him, breathless and panting. His pupils were so wide she could hardly see the warm brown that rimmed them. “Teresa…” His hands were resting on her back, but hadn’t traveled any more than that. James was holding back on her because he was unsure, and it was a little disappointing. She wanted him everywhere. “Teresa, what do you want from me?”

“I want you.” 

She said it like it was simple, like there wasn’t a hundred different reasons why they shouldn’t do this. 

“I want you,” she repeated as she pushed him lightly toward her bed.

 

So he gave himself to her.


	9. Part Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The language of this is so flowery that I had to separate it from the rest of the text fjdjfkfj ANYWAY

Teresa was — content. 

 

Guero had been something of a pipe dream, a man who had whisked her off to a life that had never been real. She hadn’t minded then. The life that he took her from was shitty and it was a relief to get to spend time in a pretty, snow-white fantasy land. Guero had been what she needed once: something solid to lean against, a white knight to save her. It was all magnetism, though. People in real life don’t fall in love at first sight and move in together after knowing each other for a handful of hours. Princesses don’t fuck their saviors on the hoods of other people’s cars instead of saying thank you. Knights weren’t supposed to lock their princesses up in pretty castles and leave them behind to take the blame for their mistakes.

 

Teresa didn’t doubt that Guero had loved her too, in his own way. But Guero was a wildfire -- beautiful and burning and destructive. Everything he touched would someday fall apart. She’d known people like that before. She had been stupid and decided that it would be fine, that he wouldn’t hurt her like he hurt everyone else, that she’d run before that happened. Teresa had allowed herself to get caught up in his warmth, even relished it, up until the day he burned her. 

 

But _James?_

 

James was the homemade salve her _abuela_ had spread on her palms the first time that she’d burned herself on the stove. James was the cool hands wrapped around hers and strong shoulders to cry into. James was the terrifying and never-ending darkness between the stars. James was coming up for air when she’d been drowning. James was her friend and protector and sometimes lecturer, but never saw her as anything less, never made her feel like her shortcomings were something to be ashamed of, because he was there to fill them without a word. He was the earth itself -- steadfast, present, grounding. He was the feeling of coming home, like _oh, there you are. I missed you._

 

James had been the only person to look at her like there was something worth looking at besides a pretty face and a tight ass. He _saw_ her.

 

He was so _there_ , so very _hers_ , so beginning and end of her. How could it have taken twenty seven long years to them to find each other?

 

James Valdez wasn’t a dream. He was life itself.


	10. Part Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, every time I open up a doc: there might be smut in this one  
> also me, when I've decided to publish: so,, maybe there wasn't any smut in it. lol
> 
>  
> 
> also I love unspoken communication so be prepared to see more of that

She enjoyed the little things. Their knees brushing under the dinner table. His hand touching the small of her back as he walked past her in the kitchen. Always having a too-big shirt to wear to sleep. Smelling his cologne on her pillow. The way the door didn’t quite squeak when he slipped into her room. Hickeys left behind on her inner thighs. The sound of her name on his lips. 

They used her room, since James’ was next to Pote’s and hers was only next to the bathroom. Pote started sending James disapproving looks after waking up to piss and catching James slipping out of Teresa’s room. Teresa knew he wouldn’t say anything to Camila, but it made her blush. They really needed to be more careful. It helped that Camila slept on the other side of the house, but what if she came knocking in the middle of the night and James wasn’t where he was supposed to be? She wished that she could wake up next to him every morning, but they couldn’t have everything. 

 

Pote had escorted Camila to some party or another in Houston. It was a wonder that she didn’t take James, but then, maybe she wanted to convince Pote to side with her. 

With them gone, James and Teresa basically had the house to themselves. There were still guards outside, but they weren’t supposed to come in unless it was an emergency. 

James joined Teresa as she was brushing her teeth in the bathroom. Their eyes met in the mirror as they watched each other clean their teeth. 

_How sickeningly domestic._

They both spat and rinsed their brushes in the matching sinks before tucking them into their respective toiletry bags. James spoke first. 

“Camila isn’t coming home tonight.”

Teresa hummed as she zipped her bag closed, hiding a smile behind the curtain of her hair. 

He ran a finger over her collarbone, brushing the hair away from her neck. She suppressed a shudder as he pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. _Do you wanna…_

She closed her eyes. _God, yes._

Before she had a chance to do it herself, James had spun her around and pushed her up onto the counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer as he pushed his tongue past her lips. James slid his hand up her shirt to cup her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple. 

He moaned into her mouth as she sank her teeth into his lip. She opened her eyes and smiled lazily at him, appraising how she’d made him fall apart without even trying. 

“Pote isn’t home either.”

“Don’t talk to me about Pote right now,” he said as he leaned back in to kiss her. 

She smiled against his mouth. _So possessive._ “I want to wake up in your bed,” she whispered.

James pulled away to look at her. He was a mess already and they hadn’t even _done_ anything. His lips were swollen and pink, his hair mussed and sticking up in places. James was panting slightly as he told her that he didn’t deserve her. She didn’t have a chance to protest as he covered her mouth with his and picked her up. 

 

Teresa’s back crashed into the door as James missed the knob to his bedroom. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry--”

She cut him off with a giggle into his neck. He was a war hero, a decorated sniper turned _narco_ and he couldn’t even open a door. Her boyfriend was a huge dork. 

James managed to get the door open and carried her to his bed, setting her down on it gently. He was waiting for permission, so she grabbed the front of his t-shirt and tugged down, saying, “I think you owe me a better apology.”

James knelt in front of her, fighting a smile. “Oh, really?”

His hands found her waistband and began tugging off her pajama pants. She lifted her hips up to help him and soon they were flung into some corner of the room. She’d find them later. 

“And make it a good one.” 

James pressed a kiss to her knee, making his way up her thigh. She laced her fingers through his hair, needing something to ground her as he pulled her apart. 

“They’re always good ones,” he said to the mark he’d left on her upper thigh last night. 

She inhaled a small gasp as she felt his warm breath through the material of her thin panties. He could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “We can be loud this time.”

He smirked up at her. “I’m going to make you scream,” he promised. 

 

 

Teresa pressed her palm against his, comparing their lengths. She was always surprised by how stubby his fingers actually were. He’d worked her with his hands enough to know their feel. Calloused. Cool but not clammy. The cut of the scar on his finger that was all but faded from where he’d sliced it on a broken glass. His nails that were cut to the quick. The slide of them against her skin. 

She laced their fingers together, gripping his hand so tightly that her knuckles went white. He didn’t have to sneak out tonight. 

James question-mark-curled around her, nosing into her neck. “Do you want kids?” 

She hadn’t been expecting that. “I-- I used to.” _Before. With Guero,_ she didn’t need to say. 

“Not anymore?” _Not with with me?_ he would never ask. 

She considered his question. “Not right now, but maybe someday.” Teresa bit her lip. “You?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. 

She turned her head to look at him. _With me?_

James kissed her sweetly. _Who else?_


	11. Part Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is starting to get really gross and sappy I need to get back to the angsty shit

Teresa woke just before dawn, and immediately wanted to go back to sleep. She was so safe and warm there, with her head resting on James’ chest. She buried her face deeper, breathing in his scent. 

A soft hand ran over her head and through her curls. “Hi,” he whispered just for her. 

“Hi,” she sighed as he scratched at her scalp. James continued to play with her hair, coaxing her back toward sleep. She could stay here forever. 

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it. “Let’s go get breakfast.”

“Now?” she grumbled. She was just about to fall asleep again, and she was so tired. They hadn’t really done much sleeping last night. 

She could hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah.” 

“Can I shower first?” As much as she loved James playing with her hair, textured hair didn’t really do well when it was brushed out and messy. 

“Only if I can join you.” 

Teresa’s eyes snapped open. She was very awake now and very, very eager to take that shower. 

 

 

In the garage, Teresa teasingly asked if she could drive, earning her a pretend glare. 

“Camila’s still pissed at me for that one. Besides, you don’t know where we’re going.”

“I don’t get to choose?” She tipped her head up defiantly, earning her a quick kiss on the forehead.

“You don’t know this city like I do,” he reminded her as he guided her to the passenger’s seat of his new Escalade and opened the door for her. 

 

Despite the crisp February morning, Teresa rolled down the window, letting the breeze play with her still-damp hair. He held her left hand in his as he drove. She felt the sun on her face and closed her eyes. Maybe James was a dream, after all. 

He squeezed her hand. “Don’t fall asleep on me again, we’re almost there.” 

She squeezed back. “Maybe you should drive faster.” 

 

James parked and came around to help her out of the Escalade. They were in front of a cute little brick building with a sign that read “Rendez-vous Cafe.”

He took her hand and led her inside. It was empty of customers save two college-aged kids in the back, who were sitting across from each other and working on their laptops with their earbuds in. 

The menu was printed out on several chalkboards hanging above the cash register. The dessert case boasted strawberry pastries and blueberry tarts and an assortment of cheesecake, while a sign promised homemade ice cream. Teresa took her time studying the menu, finally deciding on Nutella and banana crêpes and a cappuccino. James ordered a hot honey latte and eggs Benedict. 

She watched his eyes drift to a little stage in the corner, complete with a single microphone, a small speaker, and a waiting guitar. 

She looked between him and the stage, but found nothing particularly interesting about it. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, bringing his eyes back to her face.

She tilted her head toward the guitar. “You play?”

“I used to.” He pressed his lips together. “My dad taught me when I was a kid, and there wasn’t a whole lot of entertainment when I was overseas so…” He tilted his head in a sort of shrug.

“You should play something.”

He shook his head, embarrassed. “It’s been awhile, I don’t know…”

“For me?” she teased.

James rolled his eyes and shook his head. She really had him wrapped around his finger. 

He turned to get the attention of the owner, a short Chinese woman with a bright smile and perky attitude. “You mind?” he asked, pointing to the guitar. 

“Oh no, please, go ahead,” she welcomed. 

Teresa sat at the table closest to the stage and turned her chair so that she was sitting directly in front of him. James sat on the edge of the stage and strummed the guitar, feeling it out. He adjusted the tuning pegs slightly so that they were to his liking. 

James began to play a few chords that sounded familiar, but he kept messing up on the last one. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. “I can’t remember. Hold on.” James took out his phone and looked something up before putting it down next to him. 

“I’m warning you, I can’t sing for shit.” 

She smiled at him. “I promise not to make fun of you.” 

“This was one of the first songs my dad taught me. He was really into Johnny Cash.” He cleared his throat lightly and began. 

_I keep a close watch on this heart of mine_  
_I keep my eyes wide open all the time_

Teresa’s breath caught. Her lips parted in surprise as he sang. His voice was low and smoky and _perfect._ Absolutely perfect. She felt her heart swell inside her chest as he continued to play just for her. 

He snuck a glance at her beneath his lashes and smiled around the next line.

_Because you’re mine_  
_I walk the line_

James Valdez broke her heart right then and there. And he didn’t even notice.

He was still quite obviously embarrassed, but he finished the song all the way through, sneaking glances up at her now and then and laughing at himself when his fingers fumbled the strings. It might have been the cutest thing ever. 

_Because you’re mine_  
_I walk the line_

There were tears in her eyes and her cheeks hurt from smiling at him. She gave a little shake of her head. “James…” 

Her mind emptied of everything she wanted to say, except for three little words. _I love you._

_I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you._

Her head spun as she tried to find a way to open her mouth and just _say it._

_iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou_  
iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou  
iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou 

 

She felt a tear slip from her eye. James leaned forward to wipe it away with a thumb, looking at her with such an open expression that she swore her heart skipped a beat. The guitar balanced precariously on his lap as he tried to comfort her. She leaned her face into his hand before kissing his palm. 

 

_iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou_

 

He was still waiting for her to say something. 

“I think— James, I —”

The bubble burst as the owner set down their drinks on the table next to her. “The food should be ready in a few moments,” she reported. 

His chin jerked up as his hand slipped from her face. She missed the warmth instantly.

“That was a lovely song,” the woman told James. 

James sniffed and thanked the woman. 

“Let me know if you two need anything,” she said before returning to the kitchen. 

He searched her eyes. “What were you going to say?”

She wanted to tell him, but she’d lost her courage. “I — it was perfect.”

The pleased smile he gave only made her that much more in love with him. 

He stood to put the guitar away before sitting at the table with her. She turned her chair back around to face him, taking a sip of her cappuccino. Teresa didn’t care for much sugar, and if James was going to continue to be so sweet, she wouldn’t need any more sugar in her life. 

The woman returned with their plates. Her crêpes were presented so nicely that she thought that it was a shame that she had to eat them. 

James was putting packets of sugar into his latte. She thought that his sweet tooth was kind of gross and teased him about it. He responded by stealing her fork and taking a bite of her food.

He hummed around her fork. “These are good. You should ask Pote to make some.”

“Ask him yourself.” 

“I would, but he doesn’t like me very much.” 

Her mouth quirked. Her boys were such children sometimes. She told him she’d think about it, earning her a private smile. 

 

They finished their food in comfortable silence. James excused himself to go smoke outside, leaving his wallet behind so that she could get them more caffeine for the road. 

She ordered a “Hope Tea” -- iced green tea with honey and chunks of aloe -- for herself and a “Love Tea” -- milk tea with boba -- for him. She didn’t know if he liked milk tea or boba, for that matter, but she thought it was cute. As she opened the wallet to pay, she noticed that it held an ID. She told the woman to keep the change of the twenty she handed her and pulled out the card, studying it. 

 

“You ready?” 

“Yeah,” she responded, handing him his drink. They left the cafe together with a small wave at the owner, who told them to come back soon. 

“Hey,” she stopped him before they got into the Escalade, holding up his ID. “Is this your real ID?”

His brows rose. “Yeah, why?” 

“Your name is James Edward Nelson Valdez?”

He cringed. “It’s a family name.” 

She fought a smile. “Which one?”

“Edward,” he muttered. “The Nelson is for Willie Nelson.” 

She laughed. “Your parents really were into that stuff. I’m not sure which one is supposed to be more embarrassing.” 

“Yeah,” he said fondly. He nodded his chin at her. “What’s yours?” 

She straightened. “Teresa Clare Daniela Valeria Rodríguez Mendoza. Clare for the Saints and Valeria for _mi abuela._ ” 

He opened the door for her, pretending to bow. “After you, Miss Mendoza.” 

“Thank you, Nelson,” she said as she slid in. 

Teresa felt rather than saw him roll his eyes. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Alright, Nels.” 

“Stop.” 

“Sorry, Teddy bear.” She was decidedly _not_ sorry.

“I’m going to make you walk back home,” he said, but there was no heat behind it. 

“You wouldn’t leave me behind like that, Jamie,” she teased. 

James pulled into a residential area and cut the engine. “Why don’t you come on over, Valerie?” 

Teresa grinned and unbuckled her seatbelt before seating herself in his lap and kissing him until they were both breathless. 

 

She hummed against his mouth. “We should really get back home, Eduardo.” 

He pulled his head back and sighed, shaking his head a little. “I’ve given you too much power.”

 

What he didn’t know was how much power he had over her in return.


	12. Part Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thus ended the fluff

James had left early that morning to go meet with Manuel Jimenez. Camila wanted him to secure more product from the Jimenez Cartel. The money that they’d had stashed in the safehouse was quickly running out, so Camila had taken careful steps to secure a new buyer while on her trip. The new deal meant that she wasn’t able to meet supply, and now she was desperate enough to reach out to Jimenez. The Colombians had been sending them small shipments on the sly -- unbeknownst to Epifaño -- which had kept them running the last few weeks, but those shipments were no longer enough. They needed more product and they needed it immediately. 

Camila had given Teresa a different sort of assignment. Teresa had told her that she wouldn’t be ordered around anymore, so Camila was humoring her, and even referred to her as an “executive assistant.” She had put her in a pretty white dress and brought her along to Cole Van Awken’s party at his upscale Dallas home. Teresa felt like she was some sort of bait or distraction rather than a business partner, but she didn’t mind so much. She missed getting dressed up. And it didn’t hurt that James would get to see her like this. 

Camila had pointed out some important people to her, including the host and their lawyer Teo’s boss, Cole Van Awken. Cole had greeted them warmly and spoken to Camila indirectly about their business plans, but she had felt how his eyes kept finding their way to her chest or the curve of her hip. He made her uncomfortable. It was a relief when his wife joined them with two glasses of wine. 

She was at least twenty years younger than him, with blonde hair and a perky attitude. Her name was Kelly Anne, and she began talking rapidly about how she had hand-picked everything in their home after Teresa complimented their lovely house. James slipped in late, wearing a suit. It took a lot of willpower to look away; he always looked so good in white, and she’d never seen him in a suit before. Camila excused herself from her conversation with Cole and went to speak with James. 

After Camila had left, Cole excused himself to find a more interesting conversation, and Teresa was glad to see him go, even if it meant she was stuck talking to a ditzy Southern gold-digger. From the corner of her eye, Teresa watched as Camila and James led Teo Aljarafe into what must have been an office as Kelly Anne continued to talk her ear off about her wine club and her passion for interior design. 

When Kelly Anne called her a “cerveza girl,” Teresa’s smile had slipped. The blonde quickly realized what she said, and asked if it was racist of her to “ask a Mexican if they like cerveza.” 

It was. 

Teresa laughed humorlessly before telling Kelly Anne that she had been a kept woman once, but then a cartel came and killed everyone that she loved, sending her running for her life. 

Kelly Anne broke out in laughter, thinking that Teresa was joking. Teresa smiled sharply at her. It was better that she thought that, but she was glad that she had scared her, even for a little bit. Maybe it was a touch cruel, but she didn’t appreciate being spoken to like that. Kelly Anne was typing her number into Teresa’s phone, promising to turn her into a _wino_ like the rest of her friends, when Teresa spotted James walking through the party. 

Kelly Anne handed back Teresa’s phone. _“Llame me.”_

“Thank you,” she said before making her escape. Teresa sent James a look before disappearing further into the house. She chose a door at random and entered a bedroom. James joined her a few moments later. 

“We shouldn’t be in here,” he said, but she didn’t miss his smirk. “This is riskier than sneaking around at home, and with Camila so close by, it j--”

He would have continued but she cut him off, hooking her fingers through the belt loops of his slacks and pulling him into her. “Just shut up and kiss me already.” 

James smirked before pressing a chaste kiss to her nose. She released a breathy laugh and wrapped her arms around his neck. He leaned into her and placed his hands on her waist, but didn’t let them wander. He didn’t want to risk messing up her hair or makeup; it would be too difficult to explain. Teresa, however, wasn’t satisfied with this. She pushed him up against the side of a couch at the foot of the bed. She bit his lip and his control slipped a little. His hands found her ass and squeezed, pulling her closer. 

They felt the door open before they heard it. James quickly pushed Teresa behind him, hiding her with his body as he pulled his gun from his waistband and kept it behind his back. 

There in the doorway was a man about the same height as James, with longer brown hair and hazel eyes. He appeared shocked, which was expected, and angry, which was not. 

Teresa blinked over James’ shoulder, gripping his bicep with a manicured hand. _But --_

James, unaware of who was standing there, adopted an embarrassed smile and did his best to pretend like they were just two people who had slipped away from someone else’s party to make out, and not like this put them in the very dangerous position of being caught by Camila. “Hey, uh, sorry, man, I know we sh--” 

When Teresa found her voice, it was wobbly. _“Guero?”_

“Hey, beautiful…” 

James’ brow creased. _Guero? Wasn’t he supposed to be dead?_

Then it clicked. 

“You’re the rat.” His fingers gripped the handle of his gun more tightly as he squared his shoulders, bringing himself out of the slouch he’d adopted. “You burned the warehouse.” 

Guero’s eyes never left hers. “Can I talk to her alone?”

James clenched his jaw. He didn’t like him, and he definitely didn’t want to leave her alone with him. There was no way that she was thinking straight; he certainly wouldn’t be if someone he loved came back from the dead. But it wasn’t up to him. James turned to Teresa. _Do you want me to go?_

Teresa shook her head minutely, eyes still locked on the ghost in the doorway. She almost looked… afraid. She was holding onto his arm like a lifeline, and it would have hurt if James had bothered to notice. _Stay._

James turned back to the door. Guero had shut the door behind him and advanced three steps toward the couple. He didn’t bother to conceal the anger and loathing in his voice when he said, “You left her behind to _die._ You knew what they would do to her and you _left.”_

Teresa’s head spun. James’ voice seemed so distant. Here was the man that she had fallen in love with, the man that she had shared a home and a life with, back from the dead. Guero was _alive._ Isn’t that what she wanted? For him to be alive and with her again? Wouldn’t she have given anything for that?

“It wasn’t supposed to go down like that.” Guero appeared to be frustrated. He finally looked at James. “Look, I need to talk to Teresa alone so--” 

“James stays,” she interrupted. She needed him there to ground her. 

“You trust this guy?” His tone was incredulous. “He’s Camila’s bitch,” he spat.

Teresa finally released her hold on his arm and nudged James, signalling for him to move so she could stand next him. James did as she wanted, but he kept his gun clenched behind his back. 

Teresa’s bare shoulder brushed his arm when she replied. “He was there for me. Where were you?”

“Babe.” Guero took another step toward her and James bristled, bringing the hand gripping the gun to rest at his side. Guero flicked a glance at James, annoyed that he was still there. He was unarmed, but he didn’t think that Teresa would let James hurt him. “What, you gonna shoot me, _cabrón_?” 

He tilted his chin up defiantly and grit his teeth. James didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Guero had put her in danger. One word from Teresa and he would be dead, the consequences be damned. 

Guero scoffed and turned back to Teresa. “You’re really gonna let him threaten me? _Me?”_

“You’re dead,” she said more to herself than to him, shaking her head. “You died.” A silent tear fell down her face. 

“I’m still here, babe.” Guero took two more steps toward, causing James to raise his gun and point it at his head. James didn’t want him anywhere near her.

Despite her mixed feelings, she still didn’t like the sight of a gun to Guero’s head. “James.”

He lowered the gun, but his eyes held the promise that he wouldn’t need a gun to kill him. 

Teresa knew that she had to diffuse the situation before anyone came looking for them or they caused a scene. They’d already been away too long, and nothing good could happen if they continued to be in the same room. 

Teresa took James’ hand in hers and squeezed, turning to face him. “Give us a minute?”

James searched her face for something, but she didn’t know what he was looking for. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and squeezed her hand back, murmuring something about how he should probably find Camila. 

Teresa watched him send Guero a warning glance as he passed, tucking his gun back into his waistband as he went. He gave Teresa one last look before turning the knob and joining the party. 

The room felt colder without him. The window was open, the night air leaking in causing gooseflesh to break out on her exposed skin. Her dress had ridden up a bit and she tried to tug it down discreetly as she wiped at her face. She spared a second to think about what it must have taken for James to leave her with Guero. If the roles were reversed, she didn’t think that Guero would do the same. 

“So you’re fucking him?” Guero’s face was twisted with jealousy and anger. 

Teresa sighed inwardly. That would be the first thing he said. “You have one minute. Then I’m leaving.”

His expression changed to something more apologetic. “Babe, I’m sorry I- I had to.” He closed the distance between them and hugged her. “It wasn’t up to me.” 

“ _Bullshit._ It’s all _bullshit._ ” She pushed at his chest. “You didn’t have to leave me behind. You should have _told_ me.” 

Guero caught her face in his hands and kissed her forcefully. He leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m _sorry._ But I’m here now. They can get you away from these people. Somewhere safe. We can be together again.”

She took a step back. “They? Who’s _they?_ ” But she knew already. James had known it the second he saw him.

Guero blinked at her and tilted his head, his eyes asking her not to make him answer that question.

“Are you the rat?” She needed to hear him say it. 

“Teresa…”

She couldn’t look at him anymore. Teresa took a steadying breath. “Your minute is up.” 

“Wait, just --.” He blocked her exit with his body. “I only did that so I could get back to you. I didn’t give up the warehouse until I knew you were out of there.” 

She laughed humorlessly. There was no way he could have known. “You’re a _liar._ You’re a _liar!”_

She tried to push past him, but Guero grabbed her arm, stopping her. He pushed a matchbook in her hands. “Meet me here tomorrow. Just us.”

Teresa yanked her arm out of his grasp roughly, sending him one last look before exiting the bedroom. 

 

She found James leaning against a wall at the end of the hallway. When he saw her, his angry expression disappeared and was replaced by something soft and worried. “Did he do something to you?”

Teresa grit her teeth. It was hard for her to meet his eyes. “He came back.”

James didn’t know how to respond to that. “Camila wants us to leave,” he said softly. 

She nodded and followed him outside, the cold biting into her skin. James draped his suit jacket over her shoulders, but she didn’t notice. 

Guero was _alive._ He was _alive,_ which meant that she could have him back. They could help the DEA and then disappear together and never have to deal with the Vargases again. They could get out of this business. They could go to Spain and live on the beach. That was what she wanted, right?

She chanced a glance at James. _Maybe not so much anymore._

James released his grip on the steering wheel to take Teresa’s hand, but then thought better of it and dropped it. He was worried about her. She could feel his anxious energy rolling off him in waves, likely in a similar vein to how he had picked up on how she was feeling -- whatever that was. She wanted that comfort from him. She wanted him to hold her and tell her that they’d get through this together, but how could she ask him for that? Everything was different now. 

A question suddenly entered into her mind. _Would he tell Camila?_

James’ first instinct had been to protect her, but Guero? She didn’t think that he would get quite the same treatment that he extended to her. James would have put a bullet in his head if she’d let him. 

The question haunted her all the way back to the house. She tried to fight against it.  
James wouldn’t hurt her like that. _Guero did,_ her mind said.  
He would have to tell Camila about them and it would put _him_ in danger if he did. _He could just lie,_ she reminded herself.  
We said that we were in this together. _That was before your boyfriend came back from the dead and put his boss’ business in danger._

Had it really been just yesterday that she’d realized that she was in love with him?

 

James shut off the headlights and cut the engine in front of the house. “I think we deserve a drink.” 

She pressed her lips together. “Have one for me.”

“Teresa…” he turned his head toward her. She could see the concern written all over his face, and it made her chest hurt. 

“I’m fine,” she only sort of lied. She _would_ be fine. Eventually.

“You’re not _f--,”_ he cut himself off with an unsteady inhale. “I’m your _friend,_ too, you know. You can talk to me.”

She nodded. 

“You don’t have to do this alone.” _We’re in this together._

Teresa closed her eyes, fighting back tears. She couldn’t ask him to be there for this. The less he knew about all of it, the better. Teresa couldn’t handle it if James got hurt because of her and Guero. He deserved better than that. 

“You’re wrong. I do,” she said before she opened the door and got out of the car. Her heels were loud against the pavement as she clicked her way up the driveway and into the house. 

James watched her go. His vision started to blur at the edges. He tried to take a deep breath, but everything felt too hot and smothering. He felt his heart rate speed up as he fumbled at his tie. It was so _hot._ He felt like the walls were closing in. James threw the tie away from him, but it wasn’t enough. The second button of his shirt came off as he pulled at it. _“Fuck!”_ He slammed the heel of his palm against the steering wheel. Again and again he slammed his palm into the steering wheel, until his chest was heaving and his breathing was uneven and he was _crying._ He was fucking _crying._

James half-heartedly hit the steering wheel once more. _“Fuck.”_ His face crumpled as he heard his voice crack. He scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to breathe normally, but he just broke into more sobs. 

Teresa was going to leave. She was going to leave _him._ In more ways than one. _And Camila would make him hunt her down._

He inhaled a deep, unsteady breath, tipping his head back against the headrest. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth. _No,_ he told himself. _He wouldn’t. He couldn’t do that._

Everything was so _fucked._


	13. Part Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some James POV 4 u,,

James got out of the car to smoke a cigarette. The cold night air was welcome against his too-hot skin, and he hoped that it would help him look like he hadn’t just been crying. His fingers shook as he flicked at the lighter, making him all the more frustrated. After exactly seven more failed attempts, James gave up. He hadn’t been smoking so much lately, anyway. Teresa didn’t like the taste. 

_Teresa._

He supposed that it wouldn’t matter so much what Teresa did or didn’t like now. She wouldn’t be around much longer. He didn’t want to think about what that would mean. 

James took a deep, steadying breath and wiped at his face, sniffing in irritation. He retrieved his jacket from the passenger’s seat where it lay crumpled. She hadn’t taken it with her, even though she loved to steal his clothes. He had to grope around the dashboard for the tie that he’d discarded. It looked pale in the moonlight. Dead. 

James gave another sniff. He was fine. He _would_ be fine. He’d lost people before and he’d made it this far. 

A nagging voice told him that this was different, that this wasn’t like all the other times, but he ignored it. Or tried to, at least. Of course it was different. It was _Teresa._ She was his person -- the only person that he could actually talk to without ever feeling judged or ashamed. She just got him; it was like they’d known each other for their entire lives. Being with Teresa felt like coming home after a long trip, warm and familiar and his. She was like standing in a patch of sunlight in the dead of winter, like a promise that his world wouldn’t always be so gray and cold. She made him happy, something that had been so foreign to him all these years. 

He _loved_ her, and had for a while. He hadn’t told her that. _Maybe if he had, she wouldn’t be leaving._

He mentally chided himself. Teresa was in love with Guero. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had told her. Teresa would choose him, she would always choose him. She was a loyal person, too. 

James locked the car and made his way toward the house, hoping that the puffiness had faded from around his eyes. He inhaled a breath before opening the door, bracing himself for what he would face in the house. 

The front room was thankfully, mercifully empty. He put his discarded clothing on a couch and wandered to the fridge, opening it and looking inside, just to have something to do. James wanted a shower and a fucking cigarette. He wanted Pote’s enchiladas. He really, really wanted to crawl into Teresa’s bed and to tell her that she was the best thing that ever happened to him. 

He did none of those things. 

“James.” A steady voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Camila Vargas stood behind him, looking as unimpressed as ever. She always seemed to look right through him, and he feared that she knew exactly what he was thinking about. “Gather everyone. We need to talk about Jimenez.”

He nodded and left the kitchen to go knock on Pote’s door.  
Pote huffed at the sight of him, but made his way to the living room as prompted for the meeting in ten minutes. James cast a glance at Teresa’s door. He wished he had asked Pote to get her, but that was silly. James wasn’t a coward. Most of the time, anyway. Right now that didn’t feel so true. 

James knocked on Teresa’s door reluctantly. When there was no answer, he knocked three more times. Still nothing. “Teresa…” 

The door opened slowly. Teresa had been crying. There were tear tracks down her face that weren’t quite wiped away, and her eyes were pink and swollen. James wanted nothing more than to pull her into his chest and comfort her. “Camila wants us in the living room.” 

Teresa nodded, not trusting her voice, and tried to move past him. He placed a hand on her arm, stopping her. “You can’t go out there like this.” 

Teresa stilled under his touch, closing her eyes as he tilted her face up and wiped away any evidence of her tears. He took her hand and tugged lightly. “Come on.”

James guided them to the bathroom and ran cold water over a washcloth. He pressed the cloth to her eyes to tone down the redness. It did help some, and he grabbed another towel to gently dry her face. 

He brushed her hair back so it wasn’t so unruly. It must have gotten messed up when she changed into her pajamas -- neither of which had been stolen from his closet. She was cutting him out already. James pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. _It’s okay._

And it was okay. It was enough to have known her and to have loved her, even if she didn’t know that. James didn’t regret a second of it. 

He took a step away from her and led the way to the living room, not daring to look at how she had reacted.

 

James leaned against the back of a couch, telling Camila, Pote, and Teresa about what had happened with Manuel Jimenez and how he wasn’t going to give them any credit. They would have to come up with the cash themselves. This left them with few options. They needed the money now, and their best bet was the cartel horse race, which was a risky and desperate move, but would be worth it if they succeeded.

It was very hard for him to keep his eyes off of Teresa as he spoke. She was barefoot and had her toes curled into the carpet. He had to admit that she was doing very well at looking like nothing had just happened. James had the thought that he’d probably lose in a game of poker with her. He clenched his jaw. That wasn’t something he would ever get the chance to confirm now. 

Camila made the ultimate decision. They’d steal the money they needed from right under Manuel’s nose.  
Camila stood and left without another word, heading for her own room on the other side of the house. _Class dismissed._

Pote looked between James and Teresa. He must have noticed something was off. The man could read a room. Pote sent James a warning glance -- a not-so-subtle promise that he would kill him if he hurt Teresa -- as he passed by, going back to bed. Pote didn’t care about their relationship drama as long as it didn’t affect him or put Teresa in danger.

James slid his eyes to her. She was still sitting on the couch with her eyes cast downward. Her hands were fidgeting with the tie of her sweatpants, and she was chewing on her lip. He crossed and sat on the table in front of her, leaning forward with his forearms braced on his knees. He threaded his hands together to stop himself from taking hers. 

James tried to think of something to say, but there was nothing. 

Teresa didn’t even bother to look at him as she got up and went back to her room coldly, leaving him in the living room alone.


	14. Part Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Jamessvaldezs](http://wolvves.co.vu/) used this line and I loved it so much ugh  
> [“I want to be with you. It’s as simple, and as complicated, as that.” - Charles Bukowski](http://wolvves.co.vu/post/176864126323/otp-meme-22-quotes-i-want-to-be-with-you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going be a little longer so I wanted to split this up,, I'm really doing the whole episode huh

Teresa couldn’t sleep. Too much had happened. She was laid out on her back, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how in the fuck she had gotten herself into this mess.  
She’d been _happy._ Fucking _happy._ _HAPPY._ Happy in Camila fucking Vargas’ house, with Epifanio and all of his men hunting her. Happy because of _him,_ because she had James.

And then Guero came back. 

Guero was a rat. A fucking rat, a snitch, an informant, whatever you wanted to call it. He’d broken the first rule of the cartel world -- never, ever snitch. It made him untrustworthy, and worse, it made him a target. No one would ever want to deal with him. The word “snitch” would forever mar his reputation, no matter where they ran. And if Epifanio ever got his hands on him, he’d make Guero wish that he had died in that plane.

But she didn’t. After everything that she’d been through and the pain that losing him had caused her, she would never regret that he had survived. Guero was her first love. He had saved her from a life on the streets and she owed him for that. She couldn’t just abandon him. That wasn’t who she was. 

But what in the hell was she supposed to do about James? She loves him. She’s _IN_ love with him. She can’t just leave him behind. Teresa knows what that’s like and it’s absolute shit. Not to mention that Camila would never forgive him if he let her get away. No, if Teresa ran, James would have to come with her. _But would he?_

They had promised each other that they were in this together, but “this” had changed. It wasn’t right for her to ask him to run away with her so that she could protect her resurrected boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend? She wasn’t really sure what terminology to use. Faking his death and disappearing on her definitely felt like a break-up.

It wasn’t an option to leave James behind, but how could she take him? Teresa didn’t really think that they’d get along well. Guero was too jealous and possessive to not start something. James might be better at remaining civil, but Guero would get under his skin eventually. He was good at pissing people off. The thought of being stuck in some shitty motel room the two of with them bickering and fighting was enough to give her a headache. 

Why did she have to run with Guero, anyway? She owed him, but she didn’t owe him _that._ Not when it wouldn’t make her happy. She could help him get out -- away from the DEA -- but after that? He’d be fine on his own. He knew how to disappear. 

And James? She shifted so that she was on her right side, bunching the pillow up under her head. Teresa had come to the realization that she was wrong earlier, when she’d pushed him away. There was no way that she could separate James from this. They were tangled up in each other, and she wasn’t any good at undoing knots. 

Teresa’s mind drifted to the way he had looked tonight, so handsome in his suit. She thought that she’d like to see him in a suit again, waiting for her at the end of an aisle with that dazzling smile on his face. Teresa shook her head to herself and flipped her pillow over. That wasn’t an option. Not in this life, and certainly not with Camila around. 

But she loved James. Teresa wanted to be with him. It was as simple and as complicated as that. Teresa shifted again so that she was on her stomach, sliding her arms under her pillow and tucking her chin into her shoulder. She eventually fell into a fitful sleep. She didn’t have to figure this out until tomorrow, after all.


	15. Part Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um it's been over 6 months since I've updated but !! maybe I'll actually finish this soon !! we shall see

Teresa woke up just after sunrise. She’d never been much of a morning person, but it wasn’t like Camila gave them an option. She really wanted to go back to sleep, but a shower and coffee would do. Teresa ran her hands over her face and pushed her hair back, willing herself to get up. 

She threw back the thick covers and got out of her warm bed. It was cold in her room, so she pulled a sweater out of her wardrobe at random and slipped it on as she suppressed a yawn. As she stepped out into the hallway, the smells of coffee and bacon washed over her. 

Teresa went into the kitchen expecting Pote to be standing over a cast-iron pan, but instead she found James leaning against the kitchen island with a piece of bacon pinched between his fingers. Teresa blinked in surprise, and almost turned and went back to her room, but he had already seen her.

“Good morning.” He gave her a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You hungry?” 

She nodded, not quite trusting her voice, and forced herself to take a seat at the bar after he told her to sit. She was the one that was making this weird, after all. 

Teresa watched him as he put bread in the toaster and put the kettle on the stove. He took the bacon out of the microwave and put a few pieces in a pan to heat up. James didn’t usually sleep with a shirt, but he’d zipped a hoodie on. With his back to her, Teresa let her mind wander to other days where she would have hugged him from behind and pressed a kiss to his bare spine to say good morning. The casual intimacy between them wasn’t casual at all, really. They knew each other better than anyone else in their lives, and that was a lot for them. James and Teresa weren’t the sort of people who gave up personal details willingly. They just worked well together. 

He took the plate of bacon back to the microwave and opened the fridge, getting out butter and mint. The movement derailed her train of thought. James set down a knife and the butter alongside her plate of bacon and toast. 

“Thank you,” she said, but it didn’t feel like enough. He was serving her breakfast after she’d been cold to him last night and pushed him away again. She felt like she was being unfair for always deciding for the both of them. 

James gave an embarrassed nod and turned around to deal with the whistling kettle. He took out her favorite mug from the cupboard -- the one with the tiniest chip in the rim -- and placed black tea and the mint he’d rinsed inside before pouring hot water over it and covering it to steep. He knew that she didn’t take sugar in her tea. 

Teresa hated herself for pushing him away again. Two days ago she was going to tell him she loved him and only yesterday she was pulling him into back rooms to kiss him and today it hurt to look at him. Here was the man she loved -- because she did love him-- with dark circles under his eyes and messy hair, making her breakfast after she’d hurt him. She didn’t deserve him. 

She buttered her toast to give her hands something to do, but she wasn’t hungry anymore. She just felt guilty. “Did you eat?” 

James took the cover off the top of her mug and took a sip, his mouth curling at the bitter taste. He didn’t care for the way that she took her tea, but knew how to make it for her. He tilted his head to the side. “A little.” 

He slid the mug over to her carefully before getting his own mug of coffee, which was nearly empty and closer to tan than black. He might as well be drinking cream. _Her sweet boy._

Well. Not anymore. 

Teresa took a bite of her toast and forced herself to cut a piece of bacon off. It was surprisingly good. He’d never cooked before, as far as she knew. “Where’d you learn to make this?”

The corners of his mouth tilted upwards. “I’m from Texas.” 

Her mouth curled up in response. _Men._ “You know how to cook anything else?” 

“Eggs? Kind of. You want some?” 

“Not today,” she said, but she wished she hadn’t. Who was to say there was going to be a next time? 

 

No. There would be. Someday. She’d find him again, after she dealt with Guero.

 

 _And if his patience runs out before then? If he moves on?_ The thought of losing him, of losing _this_ forever --

James pressed his lips together and finished off his coffee. He moved to the coffeemaker to pour himself some more, and she got up to get the cream out of the fridge and the sugar from the pantry. James wasn’t the only one that paid attention. 

James opened the silverware drawer and their hands touched as they both reached for a spoon. 

Teresa jerked her hand away. She didn’t have the right to touch him. 

He looked so terribly sad for a second, but then he sniffed and his walls were up. 

It didn’t matter that she loved him or that she wanted to choose him. She had a responsibility to Guero right now. But didn’t she also have a responsibility to her heart? Teresa leaned against the counter uncertainly. “I’m sorry.” 

James looked at her then. “It’s okay.” 

He would forgive her, just like that. It only made it worse. 

_Don’t tell me it’s okay. Ask me to stay. Give me a reason to._

But he didn’t. He just prepared his coffee in silence, though she thought she saw some tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. 

It wasn’t long before Teresa couldn’t bear the silence anymore. “Is there a file? On today’s mission?” 

“No, it’s pretty last minute.” James spent the next eight minutes giving her a monologue about the different cartel leaders and their weaknesses from memory. He didn’t need to, that wasn’t the job, but she thought that she understood his ulterior motive. _In case you get caught again. You can make yourself useful._

Teresa bit her lip. How could she leave him? He’d done so much to keep her safe, and now she was going to risk her life to protect the man that had put her in danger in the first place. It was honestly kind of stupid on her part, but she _owed_ Guero, because without him and his betrayal, she’d never have met James.

As she watched him clean up after breakfast, Teresa decided that he had been worth all of it and more. She’d come back for him and they’d make it work somehow. They had to.

**Author's Note:**

> listen,, I'm a hoe for comments & kudos


End file.
